Here, Nathan shows me a cage housing three mice. They are small and clean and white, with shiny black eyes and pink paws and gleaming silver disks that they wear like hats.

“Are these biomatons as well?” I ask.

“No, they’re living creatures, but with a difference. See those disks? They’re connected to their brains. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt them.”

The mice are very active. They gnaw on wood. They eat seeds. They run on their wheel. These are all standard mouse things.

“What do the disks do?”

Nathan answers by taking his phone out of his pocket. He taps the screen and brings up an interface with the uniMIND logo and buttons. He presses one of the buttons.

The mice stop gnawing on wood. They stop eating seeds. They stop running on their wheel. He presses another button, and the mice all stand on their hind legs and look at Nathan. He presses a third button. The mice go to their food bowl. Working together, they push it to the center of the cage.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“You made the mice do that?”

He smiles. “Yep.”

“What is the purpose of making mice move a food dish?”

“It’s not about the food dish, Cog. It’s about the ability to make them do it. Or do anything we want them to.”

I do not understand the purpose of making mice do what you want them to. How many things can mice do that are useful?

“Mice are just the beginning,” he says. “It’s proof of concept. If we can do this with mice, we can do it with other creatures. Dogs. Monkeys. Dolphins. Humans. uniMIND isn’t just the name of the company, Cog. It’s the name of the technology. The whole aim of everything we do is to develop the uniMIND. Now, I want you to understand that we don’t show the uniMIND to everybody. It’s very special. Showing it to you means you are very special. Understand?”

I blink, processing.

“No.”

He laughs. “You will, Cog. You will.”

“When will I see Gina?”

Nathan clears his throat. Perhaps he has a cold.

“Gina doesn’t work here anymore, Cog.”

“Yes, I know this. Gina does not work at the uniMIND campus. Gina works at home. When will I be going home?”

Nathan smiles, but it is a very different kind of smile. It is a smaller kind that shows no teeth. I am unfamiliar with this kind of smile. It does not convey happiness or excitement or agreeability.

“Cog, this is your home now. Your home is with us, here at the campus. You got damaged at the house with Gina, and we don’t want to let that happen again. So, you’ll be staying here.”

I attempt to regulate the beating of my central circulation pump. “Gina . . . does Gina not wish to be here with me?”